Missing the past means that we never fundamentally change as people. The fact that you yearn for passing memories means that they still invoke a sentiment within. They might not be as intense as the first time you've experienced them but rather more sorrow filled. Yet still, the everlasting pain lingers and gets triggered with every subtle stroke down the stream of memories. I miss how things used to be as one should. However, in the end pain is inevitable and you're supposed to rise above. How much will it take of one's sensibility to rise? I've rejected any whimper and burst of feel for so long and deep down the drive for opposition in me still thrives. Nevertheless, uncontrollable sensibility still marks a presence. Answer seeketh all thy life. What if there is no answer? no tangible resolution at all? Something, anything you can grasp to consume and be fully satisfied. For now let's adopt a
philosophical outlook into things in which what matters most is the question itself not our shabby attempts in hindering its magnitude under the perfectionist light.
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